It feels like forever since I was last on the blogosphere. I want to try a short remedy this morning as my active academic focus is hitting a mental block. This is to decompress #sohelpmeGod.

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So, as a woman/lady/girl, you hear all the time what other people think you should do, shouldn’t do, act or should not act like, speak or not speak like, become or not become. The question keeps floating around your head #TobeOrnotTobe.

I’d say, #BE. Be everything you want to be and more, be yourself, be your depressed self, be your unhappy self, be your impulsive self, then be your best self. #BeYou. #BeWhoeverYouWannaBe. Own it. It’s all you and you don’t owe anyone any apologies for being you.

So, 5 things I feel every woman/lady/female should own/possess/have at every point in her adult life are these….

Her own Man: Yes honey, I know all the feminists be ready to burst my head because I say every female should have her own man. But hey, hear me out first. Own your man. Be it in the capacity of that great friend, a fuckboi, a tease, a flirt, a handy-man, a main-squeeze, a booty-call, a husband, a prince-charming, a rescuer, and for my girls on the hustle, an ATM. Okay. whatever that man represents in your life, make sure you be owning him because you want to, because he fits into your plan. Don’t let anyone walk/talk/push you into something you don’t want.

Her Own Money: Yes Lady, you need to have a lil’money of your own put away for emergencies. Be it ‘hike money’, or ‘vex money’ for when you are on a date and he is being a total a**hole. But importantly, you need some money of your own that can tide you over for a few months, at least three for when you have to quit a bad relationship or for emergencies we all can’t imagine right now.

Her Own Mind: Girl, you need to have a mind of your own. You should be able to take your own decisions. When you are all alone and everything seems meh, take a minute, close your eyes, be still and listen to that lil voice inside of you. we all have that voice. No, not the one that says call Eric for a quick booty-call on your day off from work scheduled for your girls. No, not that voice. The other calm lil voice that sometimes tells you ‘girl, don’t even look at his face. This dude is bad news’ as soon as that cute guy said ‘hey’ and you said ‘hello’. Even though he looked alright. Listen to that voice, take your decision and stick with it regardless.

Her Own Place: If you are not married or in a committed relationship, girl, get your own place. There’s no point living in a tenement or living with 20 other people when you are an adult. Don’t live in borrowed space. You need to practice for the real world. To be honest, living by yourself limits the amount of friction with other people especially if you have OCD or just plain like your things a particular way. Live by yourself, grow your own mind.

Her Go-to bag/purse: Well, what can I tell you ladies. If you do not already own this item, you should get to it immediately. Your go-to bag is that bag/purse that has the magic qualities of transforming you. How? It holds that one make-up accessory that you can’t do without because it lights up your face – mascara, glam gloss, brow filler or glam lipstick. This bag/purse also holds all you need for an overnight trip to wherever you need to be. This bag/purse is also cute enough to act as a day purse for when you empty things out on a short trip and need a purse to use on a date or an job appointment.

If pests (rat, mice, roach, ants) in your house can’t be bothered to eat it, then it is a good indication you should avoid feeding it to your system. These foods are what I consider “dead foods” because they add no nutritional value to your body. Research from FDA has shown that when you leave whole foods out overnight or for 48hours, you may return and find that pests have been through it. However, when we buy overly processed foods, we find that sometimes wherever we leave them is exactly how we return to find them. This does not mean your house is literarily pest free, it simply means the food is too useless for the pest to bother with.

You can run a home test to decide what foods you should buy and which to avoid by simply leaving a part of it on the kitchen counter overnight and see if it gets eaten or not. Simple – if pests avoid these dead foods because they can harm their body, we should also treat them as poisonous to our body.

We all love the ease with which noodles quickly give way to the heat and is ready to eat. Unfortunately, we have heard many times to avoid this fast food because it has no health benefits and can only harm our body in the long run. Allow me to reiterate here that if you are stuck on noodles, you are feeding on DEAD FOOD not only because the mice and roach in your house won’t touch it(you may experiment) but also because the MSG (monosodium glutamate) in its seasoning is designed to trick your food palate into tasting something delicious while your body is gouging on its poison. Fortunately, while the mice will avoid your indomie packs, they would attack your spaghetti which shows you may have a healthy alternate to noodles because whatever remains in spaghetti, was obviously removed from noodles. Reduce the cartons of noodles you buy at the end of the month, and make up for it with healthier options.

In recent times, we want everything to be ready immediately so we made our yam into yam flour, poundo yam, wheat flour by stripping wheat grain of all its fibre and wholesome foods, beans flour, maize flour and all the new flours we have on our kitchen shelves now. Did you know that to get these flours made, fibres, good enzymes, natural starch/sugar, have all been removed from these foods to replace them with industrial sugars, mostly synthesized enzymes and MSG to make everything taste better. Do not be deceived. If the pest don’t want it, leave it out of your shopping list too. If you do not have a friendly pest that can sniff the food to let you know it is dead, consider investing in one (just kidding). However, you could consider buying fresh foods and storing them in airtight containers or deep freezers (electricity has improved).

Make your own frozen vegetables and potato. Buy fresh carrots, green peas, green beans, fresh corn, slice and dice them, put them in a ziploc bag and deep freeze them. They can last up to two to three weeks if your electricity is constant and you do not introduce water into the bag. Buy Irish potato, wash and slice, store in ziploc bags and deep freeze for a week or two maximum. Limit your need to visit the frozen vegetables section at the mall. It is not natural for your vegetable to last that long. Healthier, wholesome options may not be easy to do but honestly, nothing good comes easy.

Finally, for the part we may all like to deny. Yes, you are exactly what you eat. If you wonder why your gut protrudes even though you do not consume beer or alcohol or you do it in moderation, it is because of what you eat, and when you eat it. If you do not have a gut and you think you are safe, you are not. How much longer can you keep feeding yourself these poisons and be safe? You may be lucky your body does not react with a bulging stomach but that may be a preferred indicator since there are other less pleasant ways for your body to complain – cardiovascular, pulmonary disease, hypertension, risk of clogged arteries, knee and joint pains, acne, diabetes, and especially, gradual sexual limitation where as a man, your libido is slowly but effectively reduced. All these or a few may be happening already which we may write off as getting older but unless you are past 60 years of age, you should not be at risk of these diseases if you eat healthy and stay away from DEAD FOODS.

Have you noticed how all your bills become due the same week, in the space of 48hours? Like a conspiracy, you feel hounded by sms notifications and reminders. “Dear DSTV/GOTV subscriber, we miss you. Your subscription will expire in two days time”, “Dear subscriber, you BIS subscription is expiring 19th August 2015 at 11.22pm”, “Your data bundle is remaining 264MB. You shall be charged at a bundle rate when your data is exhausted.” Crap! Oh! Let’s not forget PHCN when your prepaid meter starts a new song of ping-ping-ping after blinking red for a few weeks without your attention. Oh sweet lord! As if this were not enough, your cooking gas gets exhausted on a TGIF night and you had just cleaned out your bank account to service your car and change the gear oil! Crap! Crap! And double crap! Welcome to the real world of bills where everything demands immediate fiscal response.

This was my world this past weekend and with a few units left on my prepaid electricity meter, I resorted to wait out the weekend. Funny thing, I had also filled my car tank after servicing it only to get home, strike a match and the burner said “aha! I have been waiting for you.” Summarily, I sat indoors, nursing 118ml of Peptol Bismol (not to get high tho) and trying to figure out what to do for food. Luckily, I had frozen things I had cooked at different intervals and thank God for electricity in these parts of the country. Na microwave go hear am naa.

In short, I discovered that my microwave which I had hitherto been underestimating, could cook, fix and feed me with virtually anything I ask it to fix. Friday night when I came in, I was looking for a quick fix so noodles was on the way before the burner decided to quit on me. No trouble. I thought about it for a while, then got the idea to finish cooking it in the microwave. Na PHCN units go suffer. Voila! My microwave fixed my noodles so well it looked like it had more volume than what comes out of the pot when I go the regular route.

Next day, I had a guest who wouldn’t leave. I thought about it again and made eba. Small stuff. Then came the tough part because I was tired of noodles and didn’t wanna repeat eba (not my style). So, contemplating asking the microwave to fix pancakes or yam, I settled for a middle ground – why not ask it to make poundo yam instead? Ha! You were wondering eh? Yup! It did. My microwave is such a darling, I now have new respect for it. Thank God it is Monday though, the day we make money.

We literarily wish we could avoid banking halls but unfortunately, we may have to deal with it weekly, bi-weekly or in fortunate cases, just once a month. Bliss!

A Nigerian bank is like a coordinated mental institution where you try to remain calm even when you feel frustrated with the teller or customer exec deliberately ignoring you. Starting from the annoying automated doors that practically requests you undress! Whose idea were those though?, to the long queues at the deposit point, to the annoying cashier that won’t raise her head from the desk to acknowledge you but will beam from ear to ear when a regular FX customer walks up to the desk and say,“Madam…” You roll your eyes and keep mute because you know if you do more than silently sigh, you may remain standing for another 30 mins. Oh the attitude! Sistah! It is 8.35am, you just sat at your table. You can’t suddenly be so busy that you ignore me for a full 3 mins!
The only nice employees are the security persons, mute but well versed in signals and mime. I wonder if their “goodness” is not merely a search of an elusive tip!

Hoping I am not alone in my observations, if you can relate to this list, drop your observations and experiences in the comment box below. Thank you.

1. Automated Doors – can they truly boast of these annoying doors ever stopping a bank clean-out (robbery)? All these doors do, is irritate and prevent customers from easily accessing the banking hall. Most customers try to bring their belongings inside with them because of that little notice outside on the holding boxes that say, “items left at owners risk”. However, it becomes annoying when the automated doors conspire to undress you one item at a time but still refuses to ‘open sesame’ for you. Guys and heavy belt buckles tho…Ladies and their junk trunk handbags too
2. Customer ‘Scarce’ Executive Service – customer executive seems to be annoyed you came to the CC desk. If the exec is a lady, she will ignore the female customer until the customer hisses or sighs, then the exec will raise her head and stare stonily. Sistah! It is early Monday morning. No be me find you work for bank o. Abeg, answer me make I waka go office sign in jare. Yes, notwithstanding how early you get to the bank, customer service is scarce, sluggish service, lacking the scope of their duties as if you posted on social media that you wish to spend the whole day with them.
3. Deposit Queues – It appears these queues are designed to raise your stress level for the rest of the day. Worst part, there are no benches, no soft seats, no nothing to rest your aching behind while you await the queue from hell to move along. Next you know is, after waiting for 30-45 mins on the queue, it’s your turn and the cashier says “sorry, lunch break” or they start to balance all transactions made from 8.35am up to that moment (well, so it appears).
4. Irregular Signature – Madre Dios! “Madam, when did you open this account? This signature is different. Please see customer care, fill out a form to change it, then return here to make your transfer?” Ehn? You say? Your money or mine? Shebi na my account and I wan dash person money from inside. Stop ruff play o. Oga see, if I do not transfer this money to my younger brother today ehn….hmmmn. “Ok. You can go online and use internet banking to transfer. Shey you have a token?” “yes” “You have registered for internet banking?” huh? “If I hadn’t registered, what do I have the token for? To price rice in Bodija market?” (in my mind).
5. Foreign Cheques – True story. So I deposited a cheque into my domiciliary account which required two current/dorm account holders to fill a form, sign and guarantee that I was genuine, of good, sound character and unlikely to defraud the bank. They also agreed to be liable in the event that their judgement of me was wrong. Ok. So the bank called me to explain why someone outside the shores of Nigeria wanted to pay me a paltry sum of 50,000, I explained it was a refund, then they stopped action on the cheque, didn’t inform me, so cheque went stale, I complained, they asked me to call the issuer, request another cheque, get it mailed down and re-deposit the cheque with the bank again. So I asked, “on whose bill? Customer, yea. If you didn’t find current account holders’ credible and traceable, why request they guarantee a customer and why call me to confirm a cheque if you will still stop payment on the cheque? Just call the issuer to confirm?” Idiotas!
6. BVN – Bank Verification Number? please can someone explain how this actually works? What are we verifying? Pardon my ignorance. I have had mine since 2014 but I am yet to understand the import. All the stress, queues and overcrowded banks – May 1, 2015 – that people went through just for 11 digits. Nobody told me if I should keep it secure and secret like my debit car d pin or if I can share it and receive money through it. What? What? What?
7. MoneyGram/WesternUnion – are there more? Yes, I feel it is intrusive and irritating to ask me to not only explain my relationship with sender, but to also state the purpose of the money thus received. Abeg, e concern you? The sender don come sue you say why you gimme money wey I divert to other purposes? If I am trying to deposit the money in my account, why e dey bother you? For this hard economy, you don see thief dey do mistake drop money for onoda person account?Ogbeni, mind yasef.
8. SMS Charges – Please, stop it. Its not increasing my account balance. Did I ask you to send me happi buyday greeting? Then you add it to my bill for “SMS charges”? Maybe you should credit my account on my birthday before sending me an SMS alert. This would be most welcome after all, I am a very loyal customer.
9. Joint/Spousal Accounts – Ok ladies, this is tricky. Why change your name to your husbands’ if the bank will still prevent you from using certain services – POS withdrawal inside the banking hall using your husband’s ATM card, bills and fees payments because the draft or invoice generated is different from the one on the ID you presented, clearing funds from foreign transfer (MoneyGram / WesternUnion). You thought you were one step away from inheriting all his money and property? Ha-ha! “madam, sorry. I can’t pay you because this is not your card” “But it belongs to my husband and he asked me to withdraw with it” “I am sorry ma, bank policy”. Maintain your identity. Keep your own name, bypass stress.
10. Network – Excuse me, I want to make a transfer and you say the network is bad but I can try Quickteller on the ATM machine because there is nothing else you can do. This is no joke. Sistah, if your network is constantly unreliable, why not do something about it? Everyday, network problem!

I promised to write a story but I have been stalling for months. I finally decided to write a note to self to start the new series coupled with a V.I.P’s day at hand so………..This episode is dedicated to a very close friend, fellow blogger on his birthday – Happy birthday Seye Babalola. May the sun always shine on you and may you find open doors everywhere you turn. 4-3
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Wole was an idiot. Even his closest friends knew that. He was a good looking young man, still unsure if he wanted to be a skirt chaser, a gigolo or an avid womanizer. He just went with the flow occupying himself with whichever opportunity presented itself. Yes, that was what he tagged all his adventures – ‘opportunity’. They were exasperated with his antics, his refusal to grow a root and stick to a type of relationship but they couldn’t help themselves, one couldn’t stay mad at Wole for long. Besides, it was his life and it provided their boring existence with frequent entertainment. Holding the position of Head teller at one of the top banks in the country, his friends always wondered what he had done to get there in barely a year.

Suave with women, he perfected a way of cracking his devilish half-smile to wriggle into their heads. This was the only explanation they could come up with because the last person that appraised him was a woman – single mother, probably lonely as hell and got the itch at odd times. Wole had sure been smiling too much to that lady. But, Oh well! What was done was done. He had the position but he had no ‘enhanced financial statement’ to show for it. When his friends asked him, he would always say it was just an admin position with no perks attached to it besides first choice at sampling the ladies. This he always delivered with a wink to his friends deep sigh. They knew when not to push an issue with him. He could be as tight-lipped as a clam sometimes when it came to his ‘opportunities’.

“don’t mind Wole. He is just a brokeass gidi boy posing for girls with his Opebi apartment and flashy car. Shi shi he no get for account” His friends would say when they met for drinks at the bar and Wole begins his characteristic frantic pat-cum-search for his wallet which he always never found or gave his standard “I can’t believe I left my wallet in the office again”

“Oniranu sombori. Why you no go leave am when we get hang-out? Why don’t you leave it at home when you go to the cinema with one of your opportunities?” Lanre flung at him
“But if I did that, I won’t get to take advantage of the opportunity so-presented would I?” Wole would respond with deadpan calm
“You are just an idiot walahy” came Wale’s rejoinder as the rest of them threw jibes at him
“Oho dai! Una sha don pick the tab abi? Oya, let’s go make I drop una for una junction. One opportunity go knock my door around 11pm and I no wan miss am” came his chirpy voice
“which yeye junction? Na house you go drop me o. I no fit get okada enter my estate this kind time and the waka from the gate ehn!” Dare protests
“You go crash my house be that” Lanre offers
“Ha! 11pm bawo? Na night train she dey carry come?”
“Abi na your landlord pikin wan sneak come after her papa don sleep?”
“Guy, I hope say no be person wife dey sneak come that kind time o!”
“Abeg, if na person wife come that kind time, which time she wan take go back house naa? Nawa for you o. You no just dey reason at all” Wole replies
“So na that your landlord pikin eh?” Dare persisited
“E concern you? Abi make I give you the number?” Wole retorted
“badt sharp guy! Mehn! Just give us gist when you finish that job. Oyonshi pikin” Lanre says in part adulation

Lanre is the youngest and by far the easiest on the eye. He is also a big spender from an affluential background which had unfortunatley, not bettered his chances with the women contrary to his expectations. The guys tease him mercilessly about his molly-coddled childhood which they feel is responsible somewhat for his crippled self confidence and inability to walk up to a girl and just talk to her. He envies the ease with which Wole seems to fork women over to his lair without even having anything to offer them. After a while, Lanre had begun to think Wole’s opportunities were either uneducated or had IQs lower than 5 to fall for his bullshitting front each time without fail. He had met a couple of them afterwards and was forced to change his initial assumption. At the moment, he was borderline envious of Wole’s good fortune with opportunities. He could give almost anything to switch places with Wole even if it was only for a week.

“Na una know o. I no hold una make una no find opportunity go o” came the jovial comeback.
The back door closed shut as they pulled out of the parking lot. Lanre was close behind with Dare in his car.

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“Hello. Baby I miss you.” listening for a bit “I miss you naa. When are you coming over?”
“I’m serious. You don’t ever believe me. Don’t you miss me too?” pause again
“oh! You do? How much? Prove it!” he demands
“You see…………I miss you. I miss being inside you. You don’t miss me at all that’s why you keep telling me all these stories. Baby, come over nau. Please” he croons
“Next weekend? Are you sure? I’ll stay home and wait for you or should I drop the key for you in the usual spot?” listening for a bit to the voice on the other end
“Alright. Cool then. I’ll leave the key for you just inside the burglary gate” he hangs up and punches the empty air in controlled excitement

Yes! Lola was coming over this weekend if all goes according to her plan. He was keeping his fingers crossed and scheduling two other opportunities as back-up incase Lola failed to turn up. She was getting good at putting him out to dry with her excuses and smooth story-telling. But out of all his opportunities, she was the closest to something he missed and always wanted around. Perhaps it was because she was much of a gamer just like him and knew exactly the push n’ pull of the game – when to be in his space and when to stay away else he would have tired of her a long time ago. As a result, Lola was the only one of his opportunities he actually dialed on the phone.

The rest, he would just send WhatsApp messages or direct messages on twitter depending on the social media he was on at the time. She had somehow gotten under his skin enough to get a passionate reaction from him – he had deleted her from his Blackberry Messenger during one of their frequent spats but because she was so mule-headed, she had never asked for his pin after that or even tried to re-add him like the others who would plead, whine and sometimes even sulk until he gave them his pin. If there would be any of them to turn him, it would have to be someone like this – one with spunk and self-pride.

Remembering an opportunity he just came across last week at the mall when Lola was at the ice-cream counter to pay for her purchase, he had quickly sneaked his card with the pretty orange and black colors and his name written across in white to the cute girl to write her number and name for him before Lola noticed. On retrieving the card from the girl, he had automatically looked at the name, disappointed because involuntarily, it occurred to him that this new opportunity may be clumsy where it mattered having such a name couldn’t be good for the bedroom. Shrugging, he pocketed the card, winked at Esther and quickly turned to catch Lola’s arm as she swiveled towards him. He felt this was the perfect time to arrange for Esther to convince him his first impression was wrong. It would be easy to cancel with her if Lola did indeed show up.
Locating her number on WhatsApp since she was still a fresher and he needed convincing before adding her on other social networks. She looked like the type that constantly have a new photoshopped exhibit for Instagram and would follow Kim K there too. In his opinion, those kind of girls didn’t deserve any type of conversation in the bedroom only a come hither-lay down-do the deed-and be gone sort of relationship. Anything else said would be wasted like water off a duck’s back anyway.

Laying back on his sofa, he puts a Childish Gambino album for white noise so he can play 30 minutes of World War Z before finally surrendering to sleep. The next day was after all a weekend and he didn’t have to be anywhere early. Pouring himself half a glass of scotch, he smiled remembering what Lola would say “Can you even bone me without scotch in your veins?” but she’d still kiss his boner nevertheless to make it stiffer.
Dang! He was already growing hard simply from remembering. He wondered if she ever believed him when he told her he missed her although he wasn’t sure himself if what he missed was the sex or her complex mind. She never failed to make him think even when they sat indoors all day not chatting, but occupied with individual things – him playing a video game and she looking up things on the internet.

She always said profound things like “This is how bad communication would be by the time kids are grown up. Five people will be in the same room and no one would be talking to each other.” However, she always went right back to whatever she was undoing unlike the other opportunities that kept testing this imaginary girl power by trying to lure or remove the present distraction from him. It never works. That was why she was always his first choice for a booty call. Oops! Was she just a booty call after all?
Everything was going to be fine now. Lola will be here tomorrow he told himself as he began to doze off. A discreet knock on his door brought him back to wakefulness. He had totally forgot he was expecting Chioma. Oh well! She always had energy enough for two and the best part was that she would sneak away before dawn too because her fiance’s brother lived downstairs.
“Who is it?” he asked gruffly to cover the bases
“me” came back squeakily
She would be mad that he had asked who it was but he liked her that way since it won’t prevent the booty from being his tonight. It only meant she would leave even earlier in the morning. With scotch in his veins, he would be dead asleep soon enough. Perfect!
She slid inside with blazing eyes in her eerily calm face. She didn’t even mention what he knew had just got her annoyed. He had no intention of asking anyways. The less the attachment the better.

“Hey baby! How has your day been? I have missed you” he crooned in his standard opening lie trying to pull her stiff unwilling body closer
“hmmn. Missed me indeed. I was here last night. Remember?”
“really? That feels like last week already. You see how much I miss you all the time?” persuading
“hmmn”
“You don’t believe me? That hurts.” making hurt faces
“Alright. Come let me show you how much I missed you” pulling her towards the sofa since it was going to be quick anyway. She came willingly enough for someone pissed at him. Smiling a private smile, he got to work fast. The faster, the more convinced she would be that he had missed her. Switching the smug smile to a softer one, he by-passed her mouth attacking her breast first. She was blessed with such full breasts that always spilled out of whatever was trying to contain them – their cups, her dress, his hands, his mouth…..the one thing he absolutely loved about his little Sasha fierce.

This post is for my good friends who were rooting for me even though they had tight schedules. Tamerra Griffin, Genet Lakew…..Ladies, You are the best.
For a funny video of this event, please visit as WordPress has refused me uploading an MP.4 because I don’t have a premium account. It is just an MP.4 Y’know!

I have written this post a couple of times in the past but something always always happens to make it disappear before I post it. This time, I hope it stays.
Today, I am competing in the NYU University games as a Sumo Wrestler for the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. I know absolutely nothing about Sumo wresting besides the fact that those guys are HUGE and are ENUCHs! Two things I am neither, however, we need to win something. One of the guys tell me GSAS usually comes in bottom. I will participate in Volleyball (it’s been a while) and Sumo Wrestling – which none of the other girls want to do and I bet my black butt, we will win something.
I go into the kitchen, look in the fridge and decide I need to eat everything that would energize me and help me win. I remove sausages, eggs, parsley, wholegrain bread, yams along with a huge pot of decaf to maintain a balance. I don’t want to be too hyper. I still have 4 hours of lecture to attend before the games later at 5pm. I eat everything I take out of the fridge. Remember, I need to perform a miracle later tonight. Nicely sated, I head downtown Manhattan to Cooper square after which I walk over to Broadway for my photography class. I finish at exactly 5pm and wheedle my already tired classmates to come along and cheer me at the gym. Two of them come along.
A couple of kosher sandwiches which I could not swallow, then I meet the captain of my team – a well built fellow with a british accent and a particularly supportive team member, Samir. I am psyched for my game.
I couldn’t swallow my sandwich so I left it on the table thankful I had ate like a Sumo wrestler this morning.
After what feels like a 5 minute rehearsal, the volleyball game begins. A couple of serves later, we were out. Oh well, there is still the Sumo. I am particularly enthusiastic to try something new. The Sumo game is announced, Samir cheers for me but needless, my heart is racing, two cups of water isn’t achieving the calming effect I was aiming for. I move to the mat where my team members help me into the heavy, rank Sumo suit. Dang! It felt like a ton and now I wish I had golfed down that sandwich earlier.
First game, I step aside at the crucial moment like I have been told. It’s real easy – grab and pull your opponent off the mat or step aside and push them past the line or pull them to the ground and remain standing on top of them or beside them, just be on top. Real easy eh? Not when you are wearing a suit that feels as heavy as a whole human being.
Second game, clear. Third game, narrowly cleared. I am breathing hard by now. Tired and wishing it would all just go away.
Fourth game, was the semi-finals and I was pushing against a girl that had won her previous three fights like me. Frankly, I am not sure I could pull her down to the ground like I did her predecessor but am going to try. Still pushing against each other, the referee blows and awards her the point. I was out! Whew! What a relief! I could finally breathe. To say I was dissapointed I did not get the point is to put it mildly but I was glad I was out of the suit.
Here I was chilling with my team members allowing them tell me I did good today because Female Sumo Wresting was the only game GSAS went past the first round. My spirits lifted a little. Then, I got called back to the mat: referee had decided afterall that I won the point and not the other girl. Dear Lord, mercy! Anyway, Samir drags me back to the mat, helps me into the heavy sweaty suit once more and GSAS finishes in 3rd place.
I learnt 3 things today – I can do anything I set my mind to, If I try new things, I may excel at them and ‘impossible’ is just an adjective.

Dear Subbies and everyone else who read, liked, commented, smiled and enjoyed my posts in 2014, I say a big thank you for having you here with me following my stories and my silly rants.
Sheedart, I have not forgotten the assignment you gave me. Phredoh, Cynthia, Tabitha your comments on the just concluded series – LIES WOMEN TELL were truly encouraging and invaluable. It pleases me to see y’all actually entertained by my writing. To the writer of BEST MAN DUTY, I want to say a big thank you for pushing me to do this series and for holding my hand on those really hard days. And to every ghost reader out there, keep reading but start commenting in 2015.

I love you all and hope to read your comments on my new series starting in 2015 – LIFE of A GIDI BROKEASS.

Thank you all for flying with me on WordPress. Thank you WordPress for keeping this space open for me. Have a wonderful 2015.

Sitting morosely at lunch with some of her colleagues, Lara’s phone was directly before her on the table. She kept glancing at it after every few minutes willing it to ring. It was over two weeks now. Malik hadn’t bothered to call since he left her apartment that Saturday morning. She had analyzed the whole episode and decided it was on him to call her so, she wasn’t going to call but was willing to pick his calls within the next few days. Otherwise, it is ‘bye-bye baby boo’.
If he didn’t call in the next couple of days, it is over. I won’t bother picking his calls until I am safely married to someone else…..if only to spite him. That ought to show him how mad I am at him for not at least calling so we can talk about it. Men can be such jerks sometimes. If I were to marry someone else right now, who would it even be?
The following week went by without any sign of Malik’s name flashing across her screen. At this point, Lara was beyond mad at the man. She had re-saved his number as ‘never answer’ effectively closing that chapter of her life. She was glad she had not fallen stupidly in love with Malik before their first and only fight ended a relationship before it had a chance to begin. She decided to redirect her energies towards Dele in the meanwhile after all, he made her blood sing every time he touched her.

Picking up her phone, she dialed a number.
“Hey baby!” crooning
“Hey! You remember me today?” came Sandra’s voice
“Not really” came Lara’s hiss “I just wanted to inform you that Malik is officially history. You won’t believe he has not called in the last three weeks. Just because I panicked for a minute.”
“Or it could be because you finally gave him some sugar” came Sandra’s contribution
“Yea……that is also a possibility. Men are so terrible. You won’t believe he stopped calling my name and would only call me ‘ife mi’. He begged several times for me to stay with him only for him to disappear at a slight display of trouble”
“Hmmmmn” drawn out encouragingly
“I’m totally fed up with these men. In fact, I give up. I will just stay with my Dele jejely” Lara complained bitterly to her friend
“Don’t give up so easily. Did you try calling him to find out what happened? He may have lost his phone or maybe his mother had another attack and died sef. You don’t know”
“Lost his phone how naa? Malik can not lose his phone. He is always very careful and he doesn’t take public transport”
“Listen to yourself. So, because someone is careful or does not take public transport, that gives his phone immunity in Nigeria eh? Better wake up and smell the thieving economy” Sandra advised
“Me, I am not going to call him. He should have called by now. If he thinks this will be like the last time in Abuja, he is dreaming. I will not call him” Lara emphasizes
“It is well dear. Maybe it is for the best”
“Yea. Anyway, let me allow you return to whatever you are doing. I will soon close for the day”
“Be safe girl”
“You too” disconnects call
Letting the phone drop into her bag, she climbs the staircase back to her work station. It is well and over she repeated firmly as she climbed.

At the close of work, she checks her phone for missed calls, unconsciously hoping to see something from ‘never answer’. Nothing. Another sigh deep inside her.

When the heart badly wants something, it sometimes doesn’t happen; but just when you give up on it and let go, it comes back at you with force. Lara contemplated her budding relationship with Malik and how a single moment of panic seem to have nipped it in the bud. She regretted not going with him to Abuja for another full minute. All the could-have-beens.
Remembering a T.D. Jakes message she had listened to over the radio not so long ago where a young woman wanting so bad to marry a man, she cried, prayed and fasted for weeks when the young man broke up with her. So, she said to her pastor “Pastor, you have to pray this into reality. You have to pray for him to come back. I can’t live without him. I love him and can’t marry anyone else” the pastor was heartbroken for her.
Many years later, she returned to the church to visit. She was smiling this time when she said to him,
“Pastor, remember the young man I cried, fasted and prayed over years ago?”
“Yes, I do” answered the pastor “Well, I didn’t get married to him praise Jesus. I’m married to someone else and I love him completely. We have two kids, a house and God has been so good to us.”
“So, what about the other man” asked the pastor
“He has been through two divorces already and the third one is in court. I thank God everyday for not answering my prayers. I can’t help but shudder when I think that could have been me married to him and divorced already.” she informed him
Thinking on this whimsically, Lara decided it was time to let go. Of all the answered prayers….

**********************************************************************************
Unfortunately for Lara, today was not one of her driving days therefore, she thronged with the multitude of her co-workers going to the junction to catch a bus home. Sprinting with a couple of guys towards the taxi as it coasted towards them, at the last minute, she decides to let it go and wait for the next one. Somehow, she felt her chances were better with the next taxi.

Finally in a taxi, sandwiched between two plump women, she felt like chicken breast in a mini-oven. The woman on her right wore a short-sleeved dress and appeared to have figured out a new way to make only the sweat pores on her arms work. She was sweating seemingly only on her arms and it felt nothing like sweat, very sticky, squishy and annoying liquid that threatened to soak entirely through the sleeves of Lara’s shirt. Slightly annoyed to say the least. Gravitating towards the woman on her left to avoid the bollocks of sweat to her right threatening to drench her shirtsleeve.

Moving closer to the other lady, she almost choked to a stop. This one stank all kinds of stale. What was she carrying on her person? She probably took her bath this morning with last night’s washwater. Dang! Deciding to vacillate between her handkerchief or behind the driver’s seat until either of them got off so she could hug the window to death, she patiently endured. None of the women got off until Lara did. She quickly alighted, took a gulp of air and hurried towards her junction. I need to scrub this Ebola-like sweat off as a someone with OCD would shuddering as she walked down her street.

Approaching her gate, Dele calls.
“Hey babe!”
“Hey Hey! Did you see the message I left you on Facebook?” cautiously
“I did. That’s why I’m calling”
“So why are you so chirpy?” heightened caution
“Because it confirms to me that even my baby cannot be trusted as much as I imagined in my head that she is beyond such temptations” he said in that annoyingly chirpy voice
She hung up. Three seconds later.
“Did you hang up on me?”
“No. It must be the network. Those your girlfriends in MTN do not want you talking to me” she jibed
“This is serious shit. Why are you trying to trivialize it?” he accused
“I’m sorry babe”
“So, you kissed a guy over there?” he said “Are you sure that’s all that happened?”
“Yes. That’s all that happened. He kissed me. I didn’t kiss him first and I didn’t kiss him back….technically”
“Are you trying to panasharp what you did?” sarcastically “Are you trying to tell me you were just walking on the street minding your own business and a random guy stumbled across your lips where you were minding your business and somehow your lips was open and his too and they met in midair?” more sarcasm in a grim voice.
She started laughing.
“Oh! I see. You think this is funny”
“I’m sorry babe. I do not. It was just the way you painted the scene” she apologized
Sigh “So, tell me what happened exactly” he said
“Errr, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just felt so bad within myself but with this ‘no-holds-barred’ thing we agreed to, I decided to just come clean with you so my conscience can allow me sleep” trying to assuage him
“Just tell me what happened. Tell me how he stumbled on your open lips when you were gently walking down your street because that must have been what happened eh?” fresh sarcasm
“Baby, I just said I was sorry. Are you going to be like this about just a kiss?”
“Oh! ‘Just a kiss eh”? You imagine I believe only a kiss happened between you both? You are kidding right?”
“Baby, I swear I won’t lie to you. After deciding to tell you what happened, why would I lie to you?”
“Well, you are yet to tell me how it happened. I still await your side of the story. Unfortunately, I will be hearing only your narration. The poor bastard that stumbled across your open lips on the street will not have the privilege of telling his”
“Baby, please you have to stop saying it like that”
“How else do you want me to say it when you won’t tell me what really happened?”
“That’s what I have been trying to do.” hotly
“I’m all ears” simply “first, what is his name?” he queried
“Malik”
“Aha!” recollecting this was the name he had seen flashing across her phone screen that night in his house. So they did hook up and had been hooking up behind his back since then! Let’s hear the pretty liar out first.
“He came to visit me on Saturday morning. I assumed it was just an innocent visit since we work together and it was morning. I woke up late, remember you called and I told you I just woke up and was rushing to get ready for work? Remember?”
“Continue” came the response
“So, I felt he came over to give me a lift to work. My car has issues with the alignment and I don’t want to have an incident when I’m driving by myself. I told you that too. Remember?” accusingly
“This is not about fixing your car babe. Don’t start accusing” he returned
“So, I was rushing around the place trying to get set while he sat watching some soccer re-runs. Then, I came out of the room and he complimented my dress which I thought nothing of since we all do it at work all the time. I said ‘thank you. Ready to go?’ Are you with me babe?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything” he seemed to have found a new lease on sarcasm this evening
“Then, as I approached the door, about to say something to him, he just kissed me. I swear I don’t know how it happened but it was him that kissed me. I was too shocked to respond or anything” she concluded
“Oh! You were panning to respond to him before abi?”
“No. That’s not what I meant. I mean, I totally did not see any of those things he did coming so I didn’t know how to react immediately.” trying to explaining
“The things he did? You mean there were other things he did? You are trying to tell me right now, babe that he still did other things beyond stumbling upon your lips?” he asked incredulously
Hastily “Baby, allow me to explain myself. I meant, him coming up to my house and kissing me and being nice. I just assumed because we worked together and because I was rushing for work, I didn’t analyze them properly before the kiss happened. I’m sorry”
“You are sorry? You invite a strange guy into your home, this and whatever else you have decided to not tell me happens and you say sorry!” close to raging now
“What else do you want me to say? He isn’t a stranger. We work together. Are you ever around? Do you ever have time for me? Do I see you unless I come visiting? Do you ever just surprise me and fly down here with chocolates and wine and rose flowers? Do you? Do you?” yelling into the phone as she sobbed now. This was turning out to be a real bad day for her. First, Sandra had warned her against confessing anything to Dele.
“Babe, you don’t go confessing anything to your man. They do worse but you will never hear it from them. Even when you catch them, you better be sure to catch them good and say right there to them ‘I see you o. We will talk about this’ else, they will deny it totally even if you have a picture! They will just tell you ‘na photoshop’. Don’t do it babe. He will never forgive you”
“I just want complete closure on this Malik’s thing. Dele won’t hold it against me. He totally loves me.”
“Love eh? Wait till you tell a guy another man kissed you then you can watch him redefine love in your relationship. Don’t do it Lara. Why am I even telling you not to do something you already made up your mind to do? I’ll be here waiting. Lemme know how it goes”
She should have listened to Sandra. Apparently, you do not confess your sins to your man. Mistake no.2 in the women’s handbook for men now experienced firsthand. She was worried. Would Dele be able to let this go? They had both gone silent in the meanwhile but both remained on the line.

“So that was what he did? Wine, chocs and roses? That’s all he had to do to get you?” He accused bitterly in a low voice “So, I’m up here working every day of the week and most weekends so I can take care of you, treat you like a woman should be treated, provide everything you can desire, trying to build a life for us that we both can be proud of yet you can complain about wine and chocs Lara. Have you ever said to me ‘baby, I miss you and I want you to come over this weekend’ that I refused? Have you ever invited me to your place Lara? After I paid for the place, furnished it and came to see if it was comfortable for you, did you ever asked me over since then? Let me also ask you this since we are on the topics of chocs and wines, when did you ever say to me, ‘baby, I’m coming over today or this weekend and you got here and wanted chocs, roses, wines or whatever that I said ‘NO’ to you?”

She was crying again. “No Lara. Don’t cry. This isn’t the time for you to cry” she cried harder. He had called her Lara instead of the usual endearment. No matter how mad he had been at her in the past, he never used her name. This must signal the end of them she surmised. Dear Lord! What have I confessed to!
“Don’t cry yet. Allow me to finish. You must think because I work so much and do not seem to have a social life that I am a recluse impervious to other women eh? You think I cannot recognize a beautiful woman besides you right? I disciplined myself for your sake Lara not because I can’t be like other men but now………..” he let his statement hang threateningly

She was still crying. “So, just chocs, roses and wine Lara? Things you can get for yourself with your own money is what this Malik guy got you with! I’m thoroughly disappointed”
“I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry. I was distracted” pleading
“Oh! Now, it is distraction? Not because I did not bring you wine and chocolates?” twisting the knife in

Pulling herself together, recognizing this as the relationship one-up ‘having one over your partner’. Rarely, would a partner let stuff like this go if then can use it to make you do something in their favor. This was the part where she had to offer him a blank cheque to write whatever figure he desired. He had the upper hand now. Taking another deep breath to clear her head.

“I’ll do anything you say Dele” deliberately using his name to let him know she was serious
“Hmmm. Fine then, come to Abuja tomorrow” calmly
“Tomorrow? I have to go to work!” exclaiming
“You said you would do anything” he reminded her
“But tomorrow, tomorrow? Please can it be Friday instead?” pleading
“No. You can come Thursday however” relenting
Sigh. “Okay. Thursday. You will pick me up?” hesitantly
“You can take a taxi…..” hearing her resigned sigh “Of course I will pick you up. We don’t want fresh strangers giving you a lift” he couldn’t resist
Another sigh was her only response.
“Thank you babes. You forgive me?” she wanted to know she was in the clear
“When you come over, we’ll talk about that” he said and hung up
She was left with an empty dial tone and wondering what did I just do to myself?

Dialing, Sandra was not picking up. She dialed again. She should be home by now. She picked up on the third ring.
“Tell me” the first thing out of her mouth
“Hmmn I should have listened to you” came Lara’s sad voice
“I know you should have listened to me girl. I should listen to me all the time too but I never do” Sandra soothed
“I just handed him big time leverage and he is already using it.”
“How?”
“He wants me to come to Abuja on Thursday to show how repentant I am and whatever else he has planned, I have no idea at this point” Lara informed
“Well, you already got into it, might as well ride it through. If you do everything he says, it will soon blow over but you gotta go along with all he says tho” cautioning
“What if he says something ridiculous like ‘marry me so something similar does not happen again”?
“Simple: you marry the man!” came Sandra’s rejoinder
“What?” Lara exclaims
“What is what? Ehn Lara? what is what? Why have you been wasting your time dating him all these three years if you had not the slightest desire to marry him? Why couldn’t you do like other women and just shut up about Malik instead of allowing your conscience beat you to death till you confessed?” allowing her muse briefly, she continued “You know what, I think on a subconscious level, you wanted to be found out by Dele. You wanted a way out of the relationship so you can be free to chase that unserious Malik guy that goes on and off like PHCN. Too bad Dele loves you too much to give up that easily. If he says ‘marry me Lara’ that’s exactly what you are going to do”
“But….but” stuttering
“no buts. I admit I encouraged you about Malik. I was wrong. This time, no more mistakes. If that’s what Dele wants, that’s what Dele is going to get. He has tried more than most of the weyreys you keep dating anyways. If that’s what he wants after your stupid confession which any man can tell is a half confession, then you are going to say ‘yes’ to the man or ain’t you tired of counting calendar?” pausing meaningfully. ‘counting calendar’ referred to single girls always counting their cycle on calendars to determine their safe days so as to avoid unwanted pregnancies with their boyfriends.
A deep sigh. “Alright. I hear you and I’m somewhat relieved you have helped me put it all in perspective. Malik is a no-show and if Dele still wants me after what I told him, then, I’ll gladly marry him. His mum barely has a say in what he does these days ever since he got this great position and became the financier of the family. Thank you Sandy” she said fondly
“You are welcome anytime girl. See you Thursday?”
“Ah! I don’t think so. Dele said he will pick me up and I guess that means we would be gong straight to his place or his office depending on the time I get in”
“nawa o. Just now now wey we talk something, you don quick grab am dey act like Ruth abokoku! Diariz Godu o” They both laugh “No P. Just keep me posted. Love you girl”
“Love you too. Thanks for this Sandra”
“Anytime”

Now, for that OCD scrub and a relaxing cup of white wine and fish afterwards. This was shaping up to be a great great week and a promising weekend ahead. Just then, her phone begins ringing ‘Never answer’ was flashing across the screen for the first time in three weeks. What does this devilish maniac want just after she thought she had closed his chapter and settled her head on Dele! Oh well!, that’s why his name was now stored as ‘never answer’. He will tire and go away she told herself as she sailed into the bathroom peeling off her clothes as she went.